Sleepless
by Novoux
Summary: "Can't sleep?" he asks, never stopping the slow stroke between his lover's shoulders and crinkling the thin T-shirt he wears. Izaya gives a small breath, sounding closer to a huff as soon as lips move to the corner of his mouth shortly before Shizuo withdraws to wrap another arm around him. Shizaya


Izaya slumps in his chair, desktop clicking off with a halfhearted push of the monitor's power button and a hand comes up to rest his head. Blearily he blinks, slowly because of the dry burn his eyes have after staring for too long. The clock—not really all that necessary but it serves its purposes as an old gift and never gotten rid of—turns another red glowing number to another minute of too early in the morning to be alive. From behind him the windows are dark and the sky is covered in smog, as per usual in Tokyo and even with how high up his apartment is.

Red eyes burn when glancing back at the clock, then to the black monitor with a reflection of himself with messy black hair and tired eyes. There are probably bags underneath them, knowing his sleeping habits or lack thereof and knowing the rush of thoughts in his head he's bound not to get any sleep tonight. But as he looks to the sofa the feeling intensifies, spotting a mess of blond hair over a couch arm and the curled up body of a beast hogging the entire thing.

And then he blinks, thinking. He knows Shizu-chan came over to spend the night but he also remembers the beast going to bed so many hours ago and he doesn't remember much else than a goodnight kiss to his forehead after Shizuo gave up waiting up for him. Maybe that was at midnight. It's hard to remember exactly—his brain is starting to develop spots in his memory and as much as it's annoying he can't find the energy to stay irritated for long. Sleep sounds much nicer, though with the beast on the sofa he wonders if it's even possibly to get to sleep at this time and wake up at a reasonable time at all tomorrow.

Then there's the fact that he can feel the exposed sensation of his thoughts, icy and rushing through murky sleepiness and still there, thinking too much and his thoughts never take a break from racing. Shizu-chan holding him during the nights is as uncomfortable as it sounds despite the free heating he gets, but it doesn't calm the rush and Shizuo says he should be asking a doctor— _not_ Shinra—and forget his pride. The only thing is that Izaya likes to keep his ego high and sleep isn't important if it means casting himself aside. He knows the look of anticipation Shizuo gives when he says he'll stay up a little later. Tonight is—or was, at this point—no different except he actually has more work to do than usual so it's better to miss out on sleep before trying to rest for a few hours.

Something tells him he should be doing something besides sitting in his chair, staring at his boyfriend and spacing out after too long staring at a computer screen. Except there's no urge to get up and go to bed or to wake up Shizuo when he doesn't remember the blond ever coming out of their bedroom and perching himself on the sofa. By the looks of it with one arm folding under Shizuo's head and tangling in his hair, the other draped over his waist, he probably fell asleep when trying too hard to copy Izaya's sleep schedule.

How stupid, even if he can't bring himself to say it now. It's better to save it for later, deciding on at least forcing himself to stand up and his legs don't have much feeling in them, crossed under his chair for too long and his feet are _freezing_ though they're mostly numb by now. The pins and needles sensation comes full swing as soon as he tries to move, gritting his teeth and clenching a hand into a fist on his thigh with the slick feel of his pajama pants. His other hand lingers in his hair, moving to his temple in a move he recalls by another's hand as soon as he assuages his temple with cold fingers and realizing this is why he doesn't do it anymore when someone else can.

Izaya's eyes threaten to close again, groggy and filled with lead but his mind is wide awake and he hates the discombobulated feeling of his mind declaring itself a separate part of his body even when still very attached to his head on his shoulders. Perhaps it's what happens, the price of being a god and a devilishly too smart for his own good one. And it only matters sometimes in the day, pertaining to moments of feeling the rush and experiencing too many thoughts to sort through and think about why they're there or how to make them go away to the late phone calls at night when he really can't stop thinking.

And then there's Shizu-chan, on one of his couches and sleeping without any notice of Izaya's head slipping past his hand and onto the desk as soon as his eyes close. Well, it's not expected and it's not something he intends on doing—grace comes with being a god, even if it means keeping himself up longer than usual and pretending he's fine in front of Shizuo. Yet his head hits his desk with a thunk and he doesn't consider it more than the attempts of trying to force his mind empty. It doesn't usually work when he hasn't stayed up long enough but his body is protesting when his breaths shudder and even out without his permission. Sometimes it's hard being a god and a lot harder to say he's fine when he doesn't feel it all that much.

Darkness lingers long after Izaya's eyes slip shut, breaths still light enough to not be sleeping but he's on the edge of it as soon as Shizuo notices him on his desk. Again. As tired as he is from sleeping on Izaya's admittedly comfier couch, it still isn't the same as the overly comfortable bed in his room and never satisfying if there isn't another body in his arms. They've been doing this, sleeping together, so long that he can't think of a night where he's slept alone. Izaya has always crawled into bed with him, no matter the excuses and the silly arguments he tries to bring up as soon as he moves Shizuo's arms around him and his head tucks nicely into the crevice of Shizuo's throat and jaw.

Seeing at him desk is worrying. It takes a few moments, a grunt here and there and sleepily rubbing at his eyes cursing the empty feel of his arms that starts to stamp on his brain for him to wake up a little more. From the state of almost asleep he knows the feeling of Izaya's slight breaths trying to force sleep, not deep enough to finally get any rest and let that quick-witted mind of his stop thinking for just a while.

Shizuo slips his feet onto the floor, socks included because Izaya's feet tend to be cold and they also expect Izaya to be in bed with him. As he pulls himself up he can see the look of accidentally falling asleep on the scattered papers of Izaya's desk, still awake enough that he could listen to Shizuo's heavy footsteps as he tiredly makes his way over to his boyfriend with enough patience to not slip and fall over. Dark spots linger in his eyes where he blinks away sleep with bright lights in strange patterns, stretching himself and waiting for the haziness to settle, slipping a hand onto Izaya's bony shoulder exposed from the emphasis of wearing a too big shirt.

"Izaya, hey," Shizuo murmurs, throat rusty and swallows, pressing fingertips into Izaya's shoulder and rubbing with his palm. "C'mon, you've been at this desk for too long. Need to sleep." A yawn stiffens his lips and fades in a swallow. Eyes linger on Izaya's shoulders, his hand moving from a shoulder to a bony neck to rub and massage with his fingers dipping into cool skin. It doesn't stop him from worrying—even if he's been out here for hours and doesn't remember falling asleep, waiting for Izaya to finish up. He knows arguing is pointless and sometimes he does it because he _does_ worry and Izaya just doesn't get it.

Izaya comes up with a slurred murmur, shifting barely in an uncomfortable twist of his neck on his arm. Bending down, Shizuo presses a dry kiss to a cold forehead, hand between shoulder blades and then he stretches to Izaya's lips for a chaste kiss while he waits. The furrow in Izaya's brow comes up again when his eyes don't open but his fingers twine with Shizuo's hand, sighing. Shizuo knows it from the times (far too often for his tastes) where Izaya's brain decides it doesn't want what a normal human needs, no matter how many times he proclaims he's a god because he still falls asleep in the most random places after long nights and too little sleep.

Although those occurrences have been happening less and less with the more work to do. The furrow in Izaya's brow comes from them, stress starting to build up and visibly affect him before he can relieve it and if he decides to, knowing his self-destructive tendencies to get in the way of being a little healthier.

It doesn't stop Shizuo from trying to coax him to sleep a little more. "Can't sleep?" he asks, never stopping the slow stroke between his lover's shoulders and crinkling the thin T-shirt he wears. Izaya gives a small breath, sounding closer to a huff as soon as lips move to the corner of his mouth shortly before Shizuo withdraws to wrap another arm around him. Freeing him from his chair doesn't take much, not as Izaya clearly doesn't have any means to linger in his chair in front of bright office windows and Shizuo is much more comfortable than a desk and a cold chair. His arms mold around Izaya easily enough and as soon as his feet touch the floor Shizuo has him walking back, knowing how much he hates to be held and Shizuo won't risk dropping him when he's almost as tired as Izaya is.

"Don't think..." lips hover over an ear, tickled against soft black hair. The motion Shizuo creates is one like rocking back and forth, which may be his intentions as he stops in the middle of the room just where the hallway to their bedroom starts. Izaya's barely listening, head on Shizuo's shoulder and arms hanging loosely where they brush against Shizuo's sweatpants with each forward motion. He supposes it's meant to be lulling as the blond holds him, words pressing to his ear with the ghosting of lips over the shell of his ear.

The racing thoughts don't pause, though they do consider fading a little more when he's held like this, being lulled to sleep like a child and he doesn't care at this point when there's no point to. Maybe he likes being held, having his boyfriend stand him upright and on his feet when he doesn't have the will to move any further on his own. He can see the backs of his eyelids, drowsy and tired and waiting for tiredness to kick in and let him sleep for however long he can. It's definitely a luxury in his business, even more so when Shizuo stays awake just for him with the tired, ragged voice of his telling him needless things.

"There's tomorrow, you're fine for now." Fingers come back to his hair with a folding arm up his spine, weaving through and combing out the small knots that pull against them. "Just go to sleep, 'm not going anywhere 'til you do." Hushed, low murmurs of a whisper lost to Izaya while his legs start to give underneath him. He won't notice how his knees buckle, or how his head shifts when arms move to hoist him off the ground and carry him back to bed. It'll take him a little longer to fall asleep, like it usually does, but Shizuo will be awake until his breaths are deeper and he stops fidgeting when his head finds itself on a shoulder.

"Love you," Shizuo sounds exhausted by now, words fading though Izaya can feel the hand pushing his head back onto his shoulder, having fallen back a little more with the lack of control over himself. Times like this he feels pleasantly numb with a keen sense of awareness that's still there, mainly where Shizuo touches him and where his lips brush against Izaya's. Though it takes more effort than previously needed to lift an arm and curl his fingers into Shizuo's shirt.

A wordless reply is all it takes, one larger hand covering his own and only moving to squeeze his, gently, as the quiet creak of his bedroom door opening and closing becomes apparent. The bed moves beneath him even when he's still in Shizuo's arms, content with remaining there as the blond's breaths slide over his forehead and against his lips along with another dry kiss.

Izaya doesn't mind, not at all so long as Shizuo stays up with him and lets him curl up as much as he wants. So long as arms stay around him and lips press against him countless times with the reassurance that they'll still be there by morning.

Though he doesn't argue that it's already morning; that Shizuo never leaves even when he knows he'll be late in the morning.

Izaya likes to think he's that special.

* * *

 _Another sleepy fic, just because I adore them and there can never be enough. With my one year anniversary for Archive of Our Own coming up, I've thought about doing a little Q &A with my readers who are lovely enough to read all the things I write and deal with my absences and other moods. So, if you would like to, either PM me or review with a question you have about me, my stories, or anything else._

 _Thank you for reading._


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